Want, Need, Love
by QueenLiver
Summary: Rated for some hXc brotherly love. Haha. Oh and a couple F bombs. Twincest/m/m. The works. RRR.


It was getting bad.

Murphy would walk into the room and Connor would stop everything he was doing and just watch his brother, his eyes unmoving from his body. Connor's lungs would start working faster and his heart would start pumping harder, until he would hear a thunderous pounding in his ears. The thunderous pounding was his own pulse.

And Murphy couldn't take it when Connor would duck out of the apartment and cross the street for a pack of cigarettes. Fuck, it killed him. The entire seven minutes and forty one seconds,of course he had counted, Connor would be gone, Murphy would pace about the loft and shake things around. Connor would return and Murphy's reaction always wrung a laugh, or a moan, out of him.

From there, bags would be dropped, shoes would be kicked off, and it would be a tangle of clothes and tongues on the way to the bed, which were just the boys' mattresses pushed together.

Murphy was in charge. The boys had always thought that Connor was older but Murphy took the reins in bed each night and Connor would gratefully lie back and accept the assault.

Murphy liked being in charge; he liked that Connor was the romantic, the one who liked going slowly. And he liked that he himself was the one that took the initiative, that pushed Connor up against the wall and kissed him with all the passion he could muster.

But sometimes...sometimes Murphy wanted the feeling of being the romantic. He wanted Connor to push _him_ against the wall and just kiss him like he meant it. More than wanting, he _needed_ it. Connor had taken the initiative once or twice and that had turned Murphy on more than anything. He loved the feeling of Connor's hips against his, pinning him to the wall; of Connor's hands pressing down on his biceps, holding Murphy just back from Connor's lips. The teasing was amazing: Murphy would strain and moan and whimper and Connor would just chuckle, going in to nip at the most sensitive parts of Murphy's neck.

And tonight...that's what Murphy needed. The feeling of being under control, the feeling of Connor's fingers pressing bruises into his skin as he taunted him with featherlight kisses. So tonight, when Connor returned from the brisk eight minute walk across the street, Murphy just stayed on the couch. He greeted his brother with a nod when he walked in the door.

Connor's light eyebrows knotted together in the middle of his forehead.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothin'," Murphy said, eyes on the T.V. that both boys though was older than the two of them combined.

"Then why en't ya pacin'?"

"Didn't feel the need ta," was the muttered response.

Connor's eyebrows un-knotted as he began to wonder what he did wrong.

"Murph-"

He faltered as Murphy's beautiful blue eyes fell on Connor's own dark ones. And then it clicked.

Connor slid off his heavy black jacket and dropped it on the floor; he walked towards Murphy. He pulled his twin up by the forearms and then pushed him back against the paper thin wall. Murphy hissed quietly, pleased at the slight pain that erupted in his shoulders. And then there were Connor's hips, pressing up against his, moving slowly, up down up down, and his fingers pushing those bruises into Murphy's biceps. Murphy let out a gasp at the feeling coursing through him. Connor lightly pressed his lips against Murphy's neck and Murphy's knees buckled. He would have fallen if not for Connor's lower half holding him up.

"Fuck, Conn..." he whispered into his brother's blonde hair. He went to move his arms to pull Connor closer to him but Connor's hands held firm. Murphy then vainly attempted to push his hips harder against Connor but Connor was one step ahead of his twin, keeping his hips just out of reach of the satisfaction Murphy was seeking.

The frustrated moan that issued from Murphy's lips made Connor chuckle against his brother's throat.

"Are ya upset laddie?"

"Bastard," Murphy gasped as Connor pressed his hips quickly against Murphy's and then released the pressure once more.

Connor removed almost all pressure by stepping back, keeping his hands on Murphy to make sure he didn't fall. Drunk on bliss, Murphy was a weakling compared to Connor at the moment and when he fought to kiss his brother full on the lips, Connor easily tripped him up and pushed him back onto the bed. Connor slid in next to his brother, lightly dragging his fingernails along Murphy's jeans and up under his shirt. He kissed along Murphy's neck and up to his lips, where he realized he couldn't deny Murphy that part of the satisfaction anymore and pressed his lips against his twin's.

Murphy gasped into the kiss, feeling himself rising to a peak. He struggled to get his shirt off and hissed quietly again when Connor pulled his hands away.

Connor leaned down and whispered in Murphy's ear: "I want ya to beg for it."

A fire shot through Murphy's entire system. Connor had never asked that before now and it seemed to have a wondrous effect on Murphy. Apparently it was the effect Connor was looking for because he looked back to Murphy, grinning at the sight of Murphy's trembling lower lip and chest rising and falling so quickly.

"Please Connor, please, please, please. I want ya," Murphy stumbled out.

Connor's grin widened and he leaned back down to press his lips against his brother's once more. He worked with the hem of Murphy's shirt, sliding it up and dragging his nails lightly across Murphy's skin as he did it. Murphy moaned and wined and twitched and Connor loved every second of it.

Their kiss was barely broken as the shirt slid up over Murphy's head; no sooner was that article of clothing on the floor than were Murphy's jeans.

Murphy tugged at Connor's shirt, pulling it up and off of Connor's torso. Connor lay back down across his brother, kissing his lips, face, neck, ears, chest again, and, God above, how Murphy loved the feeling of his brother's warm skin against his.

Murphy began furiously working with the belt on Connor's jeans. Connor removed Murphy's hands once more, and for once, Murphy fought back, pushing against his brother's hold.

"Please Connor!" he moaned as Connor finally succeeded in pressing Murphy's arms down into the mattress. Connor smiled and kissed Murphy's lips gently.

"I wasn't even goin' to say that this time," he whispered.

Murphy leaned up, straining, and kissed up Connor's neck to his lips.

"Please," he hissed against Connor's mouth, "I need ya."

This was different. Connor stopped and gnawed his lower lip, looking down over his puffy-lipped panting twin. Something sparked in his brain and he realized how much Murphy really did want him, need him, love him. And he realized how much he, too, wanted Murphy, needed Murphy, loved Murphy.

Connor let go of Murphy's arms slowly. The same thought must have gone through Murphy's head, because he reached up gently and pulled Connor's lips down to his. Murphy worked himself so he could flip over and sustain the top, because in the end, it always seemed Murphy who needed to be behind the wheel...

Murphy kissed down Connor's chest and stomach to his jeans, where he worked the belt and button and then slid the jeans off gently.

"What are ya doin'?" Connor whispered breathlessly as Murphy dropped the jeans on the floor. He slowed, looking at him questioningly. Connor beckoned Murphy back up to him with a crooked finger. Murphy looked his brother square in the eye.

"What do ya mean?"

Connor smiled devilishly.

"I'm in charge tonight."

With that, he forced his laughing brother back under him and kissed him hard while he slid his hand down Murphy's front. He reached the rim of Murphy's boxers and pulled them off, Connor's boxers soon following.

Connor wrapped his cool fingers around Murphy's shaft and enjoyed, for a moment, the sight of Murphy withering from the feeling.

"Oh Conn," he hissed.

Connor worked his hand slowly, savoring the feeling Murphy's fingernails leaving marks on his back. He kissed right below Murphy's ear, the "sweet spot" as Murphy had called it one day.

Murphy's fingers tangled in Connor's short blonde hair; Connor's cue to stop. Murphy let out a breathless moan as Connor backed up and then positioned himself in between Murphy's legs. He leaned over his brother and watched Murphy's eyes for a moment. It was his favorite part of the entire process they went though: Right before the big finale, Murphy had a ghostly look in his eyes, that only added to his beauty. They danced with fire but were as calm as a Spring shower and Connor could never get over it.

Murphy reached up and stroked Connor's cheek gently; Connor's cue to start.

And as his brother slid into him, Murphy wasn't sure the pain of the first few moments would ever cease. But once the pain was gone, it was as if Murphy was born again, a new man.

He held onto his brother as they moved together and Murphy couldn't stop the moans issuing from his lips. He held a hand over his mouth and scratched his brother's back up with his free one.

"Connor!" he gasped suddenly, dropping his hand and pulling his brother closer, as if trying to meld them into one person.

They could both feel themselves rising, feel each other being brought near the breaking point.

Connor leaned down and kissed his brother's lips once more, and, with a gasp of Murphy's name, both of them shattered into a million tiny pieces that were strewn across the apartment.

Connor pushed a couple more times, letting his brother ride it out until the very end. And then he fell against him, spent.

Murphy nestled down under his brother, pulling him tight still.

"I love ya Connor," he whispered.

"I love ya too Murph."


End file.
